The Blood City
by Frostfeather22
Summary: How does the great city of Camelot fare after the death of Arthur Pendragon? The cannibalistic tribe of the Skaura have taken claim of the city, trapping the people within the city walls and feasting on the commoners. 20 years have passed since Arthur's demise and the king's daughter is just trying to survive in this cruel city, while across the sea, Arthur's son lives on.


The city smelled of urine and mold.

A blistering heat baked the cobble stone streets of Camelot, the air sticky with the perfume of unbathed men. Despite the summer heat, mud stuck to the edges of the road, spawning mosquitoes and growing moss. Shallow puddles of rancid water hid in the shadows of merchant stands that lined the streets. Dogs often drank from the puddles, just as they would refill them as they emptied their bladders.

Few people strayed from their homes, and those who did kept to the shade. Children played in the fountains, laughing as they kicked up chunks of mud and algae. Women would come to the same fountain to fetch drinking and bath water, swiftly swatting the kids away. Water was a plentiful resource, but its quality was always under judgement. Pipes from inside the Gold Gate brought flowing water an often human waste along with it.

Past the Gold Gate lived King Zamza's people, situated at the foot of the castle. Their homes were extravagant but filthy, the roads unkempt, and farmland overgrown with weeds. The Skaura had lived in the marshes before their move to Camelot and didn't seem to mind the filth they had created for themselves. The Blood Moat separated the castle from the rest of the city. It had been drained of its water, and now the moat was drenched in the thick, black tar that was dried blood. Carcasses were littered at the bottom, laying on top of other bones as scavenger birds picked away at their meals.

Just inside the castle walls, hounds barked and tore at the confines of their kennels as they begged to be fed. They were massive beasts of muscle and teeth, raised to track and kill a victim with the simplest of commands. Across from the kennels, seated on a bench was Azlyn, a book in hand. She had grown up getting used to the loud raucous of the dogs and the stench of the castle, and found the kennel yard to be useful in avoiding interruption in her reading.

Azlyn was well dressed, sparkling in her gown of blue amongst the mud and dirt of the kennel yard. Her long brown hair was fastened neatly behind her head with a clip, and her eyebrows furrowed as she concentrated on the words in front of her. She was shorter than most other Skaura women, and she lacked the thick neck and strong arms of her race.

Mady, her handmaid sat beside her, stitching a pattern into an old sock. Mady had been born to commoners, who had sold her as a baby to pay off their gambling debts. She was eighteen, a year younger than Azlyn. The two had grown up together, despite their difference in rank. As per custom, Azlyn would be required to devour another human in order to fully become an adult member of the Skaura, and Mady was meant to be Azlyn's sacrifice.

"What are you reading about today Azlyn?" Mady jerked her hand as she pricked a finger with her needle. With no blood to be seen, she returned to her work. The sock was a musty brown, but the small yellow flower she was embroidering was as clean and bright as the first flower of spring.

"This is called The Mists of Deamore." Azlyn delicately marked her place before closing the book and stretching her neck. "It's about the first man to traveled north. He was exiled from Camelot so he traveled for seventy days until he found a village. That was the beginning for the Kingdom of Deamore that's there now. You would find it boring." She sighed and touched her friend's embroidery. "This is beautiful."

"You know commoners can't read. If I could, I'd love to read about Deamore. I've always wondered if they really have werewolves or if that's just a myth." Mady tied off her sting and tucked the needle away in her hair. "I'm giving this to the kennel boy. He looks at me sometimes."

"What is he going to do with only one sock?" Azlyn nudged her with a laugh, but her smile faded away as a man lumbered into the yard, startled by the barking dogs. "Anyways, there are far worse things than werewolves, Mady."

Azlyn grabbed her book and left the bench, Mady gathering her skirts as she followed. Duglen was the guard sent to fetch them. He was a balding man in his forties and walked with an odd, lumbering gate, tripping often over his large feet. Duglen wasn't strong enough to be a warrior, and he had been born dumb, so the King put him to use as a messenger.

"King want you, Princess." Duglen looked at her expectantly, without seeming to notice Mady. "Wants you attend trials." His dark brown eyes were glazed, as if he didn't fully understand what he was doing or where he was. He stared at Azlyn, waiting for her response

"Again?" Azlyn groaned. "I'm nineteen. Almost twenty. I've sat in on his damned trials a thousand times! There's better things I need to do." Duglen flinched as she yelled, and stared down at his feet as he tugged nervously at his fur lined skirt.

Azlyn turned to leave him in the yard, but Mady intercepted her. "I know you don't like your father's trials, but don't forget about what he does when you don't show up." Mady said as Azlyn caught sight of Duglen's hands. His missing fingers were proof of the past four times she had disappointed her father.

The tall corridors through the castle were empty and their footsteps echoed behind them as Duglen led the girls to the King's Hall. The walls were bare except for the occasional blood red Skaura banner crookedly hung at shoulder height. The red fabric was ragged and old, but the red color never faded. Rumors told that the banners were made from the linens of the King's fallen enemies, and were hung around the city as a reminder of King Zamza's power. In the lower parts of Camelot, those who lived nearest the Bronze Gate often tore the banners down to use as shields from the sun.

The doors of the King's Hall were the height of two Duglen's, and they shone as the light bounced off of the bronze and silver embellishings that wound a web of spirals and shapes through the wood. Duglen grasped two iron rungs and with one great pull, the doors slowly creaked open. Just inside the hall, five men were kneeling, their hands shackled to ringlets imbedded into the ground. Kruviel, a Skaura blood knight stood over them, taunting each man in turn with an old chipped short sword he waved over their heads.

Kruviel was the captain of Zamza's blood knights and was charged with carrying out orders of the King's Trials. Azlyn had never liked the man. His dark eyes were always shifting around the room as if he was looking for his next victim. He was a tall man, a few hands taller than Duglen. The blade he used for his work during the trials he left dull and rusted from blood, while at his hip hung Bed Rock, a sword claimed to be sharp enough to cut through any stone.

The King's Hall had never been a fond place in Azlyn's memories. The high domed ceiling had seen the brutal ending of hundreds of men, and the floor was spotted with long-dried blood. Rings of iron had been drilled through the stone floor in various places, intended to hold prisoners as they received their sentencing.

King Zamza lounged against the back of his throne, picking aimlessly at a brown stained fingernail. His hair was dark and greasy from sweat, curling down just past his ears. He wore a crown of bones, bleached white from days of drying in the sun. He beckoned for Azlyn to join him in the smaller throne beside his. She could see the greedy hunger in his dark eyes as he surveyed the newest batch of criminals kneeling before them.

Azlyn settled into the uncomfortable straight backed chair, nodding politely at her father as he turned his gaze on her. She hated the way his eyes seemed to devour her, his gaze lingering over her chest and her rear. "I see you've also brought your little pet along. Good" Zamza gazed at Mady's larger bosom, smirking as he licked his lips. "It won't be long until she finds herself meeting with the same type of fate as these men."

Mady shuffled behind the thrones, her hands shaking as she clutched her tattered skirts. It was common knowledge that she was to be Azlyn's sacrifice on the first day of the princess's twentieth year, but being reminded of her fate was always frightening. Mady took her usual place behind the thrones, kneeling next to another of the King's men.

"Before we start today's trials, Yokon, fetch me something to eat." Zamza said as he scratched at the stubble growing on his chin. The man beside Mady pushed himself to his feet, his barreled belly pushing against his tunic. "What do we have in the stores currently? I don't know what I want."

Yokon fumbled for the little bound book that hung from his belt. He was a simple man, one of the elders of the Skaura tribe, and gray had overtaken his once brown hair. His face was wrinkled, and his bottom lip always twitched. His nose was long and crooked from being broken in his youth. He flipped through the pages of his book, squinting his eyes as he read. "A small bit of everything, my King. Several legs, countless fingers, about five cocks, some hearts, and a couple breasts left. Your favorite."

Azlyn felt like retching. Her father's taste in snacks were expected as a member of the Skaura, but she gagged at the thought of eating the flesh of another human. Even though she was a princess of a cannibalistic tribe, she had never indulged in the same meat as her father. Due to possible illness, the Skaura were not allowed to eat as cannibals until they turned twenty. That was the only law of her people Azlyn was actually grateful for.

In the past, healers of the Skaura had documented the recurrence of disease and strange illnesses among many children who ate human flesh at young ages. Children would become mad, or even start to morph into the cannibalistic creatures that haunted the swamps of their homeland.

"Bring me a breast." Zamza grinned as Yokon waddled out of the hall to fetch the King's cravings. Zamza waved Kruviel forward. "We might as well get this started while we wait. We don't have many today, so we can take our time. Who's first?"

Kruviel unfastened the chains that bound an older man to the floor. "This is a thief." Kruviel grabbed the man's arm, pulling him toward the king. "Stole some gold from a merchant inside the Silver Gate."

The man struggled against Kruviel's grip. "I didn't steal that gold! I was just-, " he was cut off by a well-aimed elbow to his nose. It cracked, and blood streamed down his face, dripping into his mouth as he yelled in pain. Azlyn gritted her teeth, but didn't dare look away. The first time she had refused to watch an entire trial, Duglen had lost his first finger.

Kruviel pushed the man to the ground and looked to Zamza. "Here is a thief and a liar, my King. I broke his nose for the lying. What shall I do for the thieving?"

Zamza smiled at the blood that pooled on the floor, his smile growing wider as he saw Yokon return with his snack. "Oh just take a hand and be done with this one." Yokon passed a wrapped bundle of linens to Zamza, who greedily tore the package open, grinning at the flesh in his hands.

The breast was cold. Zamza preferred fresh meat, but a breast was a breast. The King's snacks were stored in a little room near the kitchens. The meat was cleaned and wrapped, and left to either get eaten or rot and fester in their wraps. Once as a child, Azlyn had wandered into the little storage room, only to leave gagging and dizzy from the smell of rotting human flesh.

As Zamza bit into the fatty mass of breast, screams echoed through the hall as Kruviel sawed through the old man's wrist, letting his hand fall to the floor in a shower of blood. The trials were most often a death sentence. The man would either die of blood loss or later infection. The chances of him surviving such a crude amputation was slim. Duglen picked up the sobbing man and dumped him outside the hall. It was common to find the bodies of dead criminals piled outside the hall at the end of a trial. Without the aid of a healer, most men would bleed to death in a matter of minutes.

Azlyn released the breath she had been holding, and fought back the urge to gag. The King's Hall smelt of fresh blood, and the gnashing of skin and fat in her father's mouth made her regret eating any food that morning for breakfast.

Kruviel enjoyed his job. He brought the next man forward with a laugh. "I hope this one doesn't scream like the old one did. Hurts my ears." With a kick to the back of the young prisoner's knees, Kruviel forced him to kneel before the king. "This one's a rapper."

Zamza smirked, wiping globs of fat from his chin. "And what do we do with rappers Kruviel?"

A smile stretched across the blood knight's face. He leaned forward to look into the young man's face that knelt in front of him. "You'll be paying for that whore with your cock, lad." With eyes wide with terror, the boy looked to be younger than Azlyn. She wished she could stop the cruelty that was about to befall her, but her father always got what he wanted. And he wanted blood.

"Alright boy. You want to take your breeches off yourself? Or do you want to be stripped by another man?" Kruviel pointed to one of the other prisoners, a balding middle-aged brute. "That one there is her for rape too. But he prefers little boys. So I'm sure he wouldn't mind undressing one last young lad before he faces my sword too."

"Please." The boy was crying, looking around the room for anyone to help him. "It wasn't rape, I swear. I loved her, and she loved me. It was her mother that didn't like me." His pleading gaze met Azlyn's. "Please!"

The king laughed. "Do it Kruviel, I hate it when they cry. Take it like a man!"

Kruviel laughed. "Yeah, boy. Be a man now. It's your last chance. Cause in a few minutes you won't be a man anymore!" The boy screamed as he was stripped, but once he was cut, the pain silenced him and he flopped to the ground, unconscious in a pool of his own blood.

The next three trials seemed to blur together. Azlyn knew a few of them were guilty of their crimes, and she thought the bald brute deserved his sentence for raping and trafficking children. But the bloodshed always made her cringe away. The wrappings from the king's snack were thrown on the ground beside his throne, and all that was left was the nipple that kept reappearing from his mouth. He was savoring the taste, and every time Azlyn thought that he had finally swallowed the last bit of his disgusting meal, the nipple would reappear again.

As Duglen dragged the last man out to be tossed like garbage, another of Zamza's blood knight rushed through the open doors. Dulzis was the stronger, smarter and taller twin brother of Duglan, and was Zamza's chief strategist. "Get your ass off that throne, Zamza! I've got news for ya."

Zamza grinned, finally swallowing the nipple and pushed off of his throne. "Watch that tongue of yours, Dulzis. One of these days I'll eat it myself." The two gripped hands for a respectful shake. Dulzis was Zamza's most respected man, and was the only person who had the gall to speak to the king in such a manner. "This news had better be good. You know I like to see the bodies after my trials."

Azlyn helped Mady off the floor, both relieved that the day's trial was finally over. Yokon had fallen asleep, and was hunched over his belly, drool dripping onto his tunic. Kruviel scuffed his boots in one of the larger puddles of fresh boots, admiring the glossy red shine of the liquid.

"We found him." Dulzis's voice echoed through the hall. "Arthur Pendragon's son. After twenty years, we've found him."

Azlyn's eyes grew wide as she heard Dulzis's report. The Pendragons were the rightful rulers of Camelot. Suspicions told that the previous King Arthur had a son who was still alive, and the Queen Gwenyvere had never been found after the Skaura had overthrown the city. Most citizens would have remained loyal to the Pendragons, but nobody ever believed they would be strong enough to retake the thrown. Especially after being silent for so long.

"Pendragon's son?" Zamza's lips curled into a smile. "Where?"

"Seahaven. He's been living with the Blake family this whole time." Dulzis said.

"Seahaven? Those damned Blakes." Zamza was silent as he thought for a second. "We're going to sail to their cursed island again, but this time we _will_ succeed." Zamza had attempted to raid Seahaven years before, but just as its nickname suggested, the Blake's city by the sea proved to be The Impenetrable City. That had been Zamza's first defeat, and his army had been cut in half. "I'll kill them. Every last Blake. I'll kill them all."

"Father?" Azlyn approached the two men, aware of the vast height difference between her and Dulzis. Her father looked at her expectantly, his eyes a mixture of rage and excitement. "How long will you be gone on this trip?"

Zamza looked to Dulzis. He didn't know. "King Zamza will be leading his army. He'll be gone for at least three cycles of the moon. We'll be leaving as soon as the ships are loaded with supplies and men."

Zamza nodded. "I'll leave you in charge of my trials while I'm gone. You can gave Duglen and Yokon to help you. You've seen them enough times to make the correct decisions." He turned back to Dulzis and the two left Azlyn, their heads together as they began planning the siege of Seahaven.

Azlyn couldn't help but smile as she turned to return to Mady. _This is it._ She thought. _This is the time to leave this retched city for good._


End file.
